December Desolation Chapter 17
A/N: Hey! I felt bad for not updating for so long so, two chapters in one week yay! Enjoy.
Porthos peered tiredly into the dim room, smiling gently at the sight of Athos slumped in his chair chin resting on his chest and book dangling precariously from senseless fingers. Levering himself to his feet he gracefully made his way over to his brothers and draped a blanket over Athos, gently extricating the book and placing it quietly on the table. A distressed murmuring from said brother froze him in place for a moment, staring wide eyed at his sleeping form and sighing in relief when he merely let out a contented sigh and snuggled deeper into the warmth of the blanket.
He chuckled in amusement at his brothers antics and turned to check on Aramis' condition, startling at the pair of chocolate eyes staring at him, fire reflecting in dancing waves in his irises. Pressing a hand to his heart he bent over slightly and exhaled sharply in relief "Jesus Mis, you scared me half to death!" he exclaimed.
When no reply was forthcoming he lowered himself gently to sit next to Aramis and brushed a hand soothingly through his tangled curls, "what are you doing awake Mis?" he whispered softly in concern. Aramis leant his face into the comfort of Porthos' cool palm, eyes closed in exhaustion "couldn' sleep" he mumbled "alone, nightmares"
At that revelation Porthos groaned in self reproach, yet again they were failing their brother, not only had they ignored him like imbeciles but they had forgotten that in this state he would wish for company.
"It is not your fault 'Thos" Aramis smiled gently "you did your best, it cannot be expected that you would think of everything" he broke off into a cough and Porthos rubbed his back gently.
"You my friend are far too forgiving" he sighed in fond exasperation "now let's get you in a bed, we can either do this the easy way or the way that you really wont like"
"Urgh, let's go with the easy way, I don't think I have the energy for the latter" Aramis laughed as Porthos slipped one arm beneath his knees and the other behind his back before lifting him in one smooth motion to rest against his chest.
"D'art?" Porthos called questioningly over his shoulder as Aramis gripped one hand firmly onto the collar of his shirt and his head lolled tiredly.
"Yes" D'artagnan piped up immediately from his corner of the room "what can I do?"
"Ha, I knew you were awake through all this, pup" Porthos laughed deeply, chest rumbling with deep vibrations that rumbled through Aramis in a comforting wave "now run to the kitchen and fetch cold water, alcohol and cloths for me would ya?"
"Absolutely" D'art nodded enthusiastically, following his two brothers out the door and parting ways at the marble staircase.
Porthos made his slow steady way up the next spiralling staircase, huffing slightly with exertion "you've put on weight Mis, this is getting harder than it used to be" he joked lightly.
The corridor they walked down was narrow and dark, surprising for the quarters of a King but then again it was meant for hunting, so being overly lavish was unfaithful to the real life of the common people that Louis craved so much to experience. However he could not entirely detach himself from the lifestyle of a King, candlelight reflecting off the jewel encrusted candle brackets and the thick ornately carved doors and handles mitigated all efforts of subtlety and frugality.
The bedroom at the end of the hall was obviously the King's personal quarters, red silken sheets decorated a bed that was adorned with the fattest pillows Porthos had ever seen, along with a multitude of animal furs which had evidently not been conquests of the tragically unskilled King. The carpet was even more of a delight than that which blanketed the downstairs floor, the same fleur-de-lis pattern was joined by swords, muskets and the more traditional hunting accoutrements such as bows and arrows, Porthos' feet leaving deep indentations behind as he walked across the room.
"Awright" he grunted in exertion, "let go of me now"
Aramis reluctantly released his steely grip on the linen of Porthos' shirt as he was lowered slowly onto the bed in a sitting position, he breathed deeply through his nose in an attempt to dispel the nausea that rose up in a bitter wave in the back of his throat from the sudden change in position and groaned miserably.
"Are you gonna be sick" Porthos observed him with concern etched in deep lines on his face, dark eyes swimming with guilt.
"Nah, just give me a minute" he croaked in response, swallowing rapidly to not throw up over his brothers feet.
Porthos' giant hands began, with surprising gentility, to undo the belt on Aramis' trousers. Pulling them carefully over too narrow hips, he gently stroked his fingers over the flesh around the bandages, sighing in relief when he felt no abnormal heat from his skin.
A quiet eep from the doorway alerted them to D'artagnan's presence in the doorway, tan skin flushing delicately at the compromising sight before him.
"Sorry" he squeaked in embarrassment, tripping forwards awkwardly over the threshold and thrusting the bowl of water he was carrying into Porthos' waiting hands "I didn't mean to intrude"
Porthos burst into deep peals of laughter at the awkward expression on their youngests face, "It's not like that puppy" he chortled "jus checking his wound"
D'art nodded rapidly in relieved understanding, sitting on the bed beside a drooping Aramis and carefully unwrapping the bindings on his gunshot wound, he whistled lowly through his teeth at the puckered flesh revealed.
"That looks painful" he murmured in appreciation, watching as Porthos gently dabbed at the stitches with a damp cloth, wiping away dried blood that could cause infection if left, inciting sharp exhalations of pain from Aramis through tightly clenched teeth.
"Funnily enough it is" Aramis snapped back in frustration, immediately looking apologetically at his youngest brother, regretting his harsh words.
The wounded look on D'artagnan's face was reminiscent of a kicked puppy, all large watery eyes and droopy lips, tugging at the heartstrings of the two older men.
"I'm sorry" Aramis groaned miserably, face whitening as Porthos wrapped a clean bandage tightly around his thigh.
"It's okay 'Mis" D'artagnan smiled sadly, "I know you didn't mean it"
Finally finished with bandaging Aramis' wound, Porthos then began to pull off his doublet and unbutton the first few buttons on his shirt in an attempt to make him comfortable, face creasing in concern at the visible collarbones and jutting ribs. Once finished he lay his friend back onto the mattress, smiling softly as he gave a luxurious sigh and melted bodily into the support.
"Move over 'Mis" D'artagnan chirped brightly, sitting himself down on the bed and beginning to pull off his own clothes.
When the wounded man had shifted as much as was possible for him in his state, D'artagnan lay down beside him, arm flung over his chest and head resting on his shoulder, Porthos pulled the blankets up around them and stood back with a smile, hands resting on his hips as he watched them sleep peacefully.
Glad that for now, someone was with Aramis and he wouldn't be alone with his nightmares.
A/N: Okay that's Chapter 17, still can't believe I've written this much! Anyway, Aramis is slowly on his way to forgiving, although he never was really all that mad at Porthos in the first place. Next chapter the shenanigans in the hunting lodge! I hope that will be done this weekend for you guys, as usual thank you so much for your positive reviews, I'm glad you like this as much as I like writing it! Please let me know what you think. :D
